Equilibrio-Exception...

This is a poem about the vestibular system, a clever swine, and the magic wand that makes money work. As usual with my poetry, it was improvised for a contest, and is a first draft.

We have, they say, some water
inside of our ears. 
Not so much, I guess, like, "water"
but canals, and lakes, and gears.

That tells -that tells- us which way up
appears to be; but

the up-n-up is up's not "up" so much as out
and out is doubt without the d-
eal is its all in how you interpret "nation".

It seem to me
that the eye in the tri-
angle (on the back of the bill)
is worth about as much as what I can carry--
sty to station.

All ears, my dears!  It does appear that what I fear's
yer goddamned confabulation.

We starve; they pray. 
Water mostly goes "up" around here
and we're out--
no doubt they'll just print more.

What separates us,
"man" n "beast", is that we have a store
of symbols and they no need to remember. 
Cause they're current. 
See?

What we fergot is yer-up-spot-ing
fault when the staff points the way
"Out!  Yer not allowed in here!"

You live; they steer.

But here's alot of the rea-
son, yer under the impres-
sion, most of the time, that what they have
in mined resour-
says "This here, this is a 'dollar'.  And that
is counterfeit."

Just what is it
which deter-
minds?

Yeah, pigs, they may a'wallow, but it takes Real Man to swallow that particular line of bill. 

Author's Note

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